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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961284">Passing for Normal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jynguo/pseuds/Jynguo'>Jynguo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:00:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jynguo/pseuds/Jynguo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Nile gets invited to a party. Or rather, Joe and Nicky get invited to a party, and they ask if they can bring a friend.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wait,” Nile says. “You guys have friends?”</em>
</p><p> <br/>In which Joe and Nicky show Nile that there's more to this life than killing and dying and fighting other people's wars.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>472</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Passing for Normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nile gets invited to a party. Or rather, Joe and Nicky get invited to a party, and they ask if they can bring a friend.</p><p>“You really should meet Maria,” Joe says when he tells her. “I think you’d like her.”</p><p>“Wait,” Nile says. “You guys have <em>friends</em>?”</p><p>She’s aware how this sounds even as the words are leaving her mouth. “That’s not--” she adds immediately, but Joe is already holding one hand to his chest, his eyes big and wounded.</p><p>“Should we not?” Joe asks. “Do we not seem like friendly sorts of people, Nicky and I?”</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like that,” Nile says. “I just mean…” </p><p>What <em>does</em> she mean? That they’re a thousand years old, she supposes. That she’s watched them sit up after getting their brains blown out, which is a memory that is really difficult to reconcile with the mental image of a dinner party.</p><p>“You don’t have to come, of course,” Nicky says, taking pity on Nile and offering her a way out of the hole she’s digging. “But we would like it very much if you did.”</p><p>Nile opens her mouth. Looks at Nicky, who is watching her steadily, and then at Joe, whose eyes are still big. “Yes,” she says, somewhat to her own surprise, “okay. But I gotta warn you: I’ve never been to a dinner party before.”</p>
<hr/><p>Nile finds that she’s fine with the idea of meeting people in theory, but as the day of the party draws closer, she begins to panic. What does she say? How does she introduce herself? <em>Hello, I’m Nile. I’m Nicky and Joe’s new teammate, and I spend most of my time fighting bad guys and not dying.</em></p><p>“You can tell them you’re a Marine, if you’d like,” Nicky says when Nile finally succumbs to her anxiety and goes looking for advice over breakfast. “No one will be there who is also a soldier. They won’t question you.”</p><p>“They think I’m an artisan chocolate maker,” Joe says, grinning across the kitchen island at Nile. “I spend most of my time out of the country sourcing beans.”</p><p>Nicky slides a plate full of eggs and bacon over to Nile. “He’s very big on sustainability,” he tells her. “He invests in small farms and likes to take a personal interest in the families’ well-being, make sure they’re being treated fairly.”</p><p>Nile stares at Joe. After a moment, she transfers her gaze to Nicky and asks, “What about you?”</p><p>Nicky smiles serenely at her. “I’m independently wealthy.”</p><p>That is too much. Nile drops her face into her hands and groans. “This was a terrible idea.”</p><p>Nile has spent enough time around Nicky and Joe by now to know that they’re exchanging a glance over her head. A few seconds pass, and then she feels Joe’s hand on her shoulder, broad and comforting. “Hey,” he says, “don’t worry so much about it. We’ll go, say hi to everyone, and if you’re feeling uncomfortable or just not having a good time, we’ll leave. Okay?” He squeezes her shoulder gently. “It’ll be fine.”</p><p>Nile sighs, deeply. “I know,” she says, lowering her hands. “But I just…”  She flattens her palms against the counter and looks despairingly at Joe. “I don’t even know how to make conversation anymore.”</p><p>Joe gives her shoulder another squeeze and replies, “That’s because you’ve been spending too much time with Andy.” He says it like it’s supposed to be reassuring. </p><p>Nicky slants Joe a look before turning his attention back to Nile. “Henry and Maria are good hosts,” he tells her. “And we’ll stay close.”</p><p>“And if nothing else,” Joe says cheerfully, “they have a really cute cat.”</p>
<hr/><p>Joe and Nicky wear button-up shirts and bring three bottles of wine. Nile wears the one nice blouse she has left and brings a strawberry tart because even though Joe and Nicky tell her that as their guest, she’s not expected to bring anything, her mama didn’t raise her to be rude.</p><p>Joe drives them into East Finchley, to what Nicky calls a terraced house but what looks to Nile like a townhouse. There isn’t much green here, but the street is quiet. It’s a nice change from the constant bustle that surrounds Joe and Nicky’s apartment in central London.</p><p>A woman opens the door on Joe’s second knock. “Joe,” she says, beaming, and leans forward to embrace him. They engage in a brief exchange--too quiet for Nile to catch, but she’s pretty sure they’re not speaking English. Then the woman untangles herself from Joe, gives Nicky a hug, too, and finally turns to Nile with a warm smile on her face. </p><p>Nile offers her a nervous smile back.</p><p>“You must be Nile,” the woman says. “I’m Maria. It’s so lovely to meet you.” She opens the door wide and adds, “Please, come in.”</p><p>It’s a nice place, cozy, with paintings on the walls and colorful pillows arranged artfully on the loveseat. Nile fears absurdly that she might break something. It’s been a long time since she’s been invited into someone else’s home, even longer since she’s been somewhere that has actual plants indoors, green and vibrant because there are people regularly around to care for them.</p><p>“Let me take that for you,” Maria says, and Nile relinquishes the tart to her. Maria balances it carefully in her hands and sighs, soft and heartfelt. “Strawberries are my favorite this time of year.”</p><p>“The bakery also makes some really good turnovers,” Nile says, and then immediately kicks herself for it. How many times has Andy drilled it into her? Don’t offer details. Don’t invite questions.</p><p>Fortunately, Maria doesn’t follow up with the obvious. “Thank you so much for this,” she says instead. “This is beautiful.” Then she’s leading them past the living room, through an empty door frame with vines painted along its perimeter. “The kitchen is this way,” she says. “The bathroom is down the hall there, first door on your right. Watch out for Turi; she likes to sit in the sink.”</p><p>“Turi?” Nile asks.</p><p>“The cat,” Joe says. “I’m surprised she still fits in the sink.”</p><p>Maria laughs. “She is a very determined creature.” </p><p>They walk into the kitchen, which is an open space that stretches into the dining room and then another seating area. Glass sliding doors span the entire far wall, and late afternoon sunlight streams in, dappling the walls in gold. </p><p>Maria sets the tart down on the counter beside the refrigerator and nods towards the couch. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she says. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”</p><p>The sliding door opens at that moment, and a man shoulders his way through, balancing a platter on one arm. Nile can’t tell what’s on it, but it smells amazing, like wood smoke and fire-cooked meat. </p><p>The man turns and grins when he sees everyone watching him from across the room. “Looks like I came in right on time,” he says. He carefully puts the platter down on the dining table and wipes his hands off on the towel hanging over his shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Pardon the smoke--I’m still getting the hang of this whole grilling thing.”</p><p>“I offered to cook,” Maria says, “but he insisted on handling the main course.”</p><p>“It smells great,” Joe says, “even with the smoke.” He takes a step forward, holding out one of the bottles of wine and depositing it into the man’s extended hands with a slightly conspiratorial smile. “From Italy. I think you might like this one.”</p><p>The man adjusts his glasses and holds the bottle up in order to read the label. “Nino Negri,” he says, turning the bottle slightly. He sounds pleased. “I’ve always meant to try a Sfursat.” Then his gaze catches on Nile, and he lowers the wine. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Henry.”</p><p>“Nile,” she says. “Thanks for having me.”</p><p>Small talk is imminent. Nile can feel it, and she’s starting to panic again. Seven months with Andy honing her combat skills has left her woefully under-equipped for this.</p><p>She’s wracking her mind for something not too nonsensical to say when she feels fur brush up against the back of her calves. She starts to flinch, manages to suppress the worst of it, and turns to find the biggest cat she’s ever seen winding around her legs. “Oh,” Nile says, and the cat tips its head back to stare up at her. It flicks its tail once and then launches itself onto the counter beside her, landing with a muffled thump. It settles down and proceeds to purr like a broken lawnmower.</p><p>Nile spends the next few minutes getting acquainted with the cat. She can’t help it; she doesn’t think it’s actually possible to resist those luminous green eyes. She’s aware of the ebb and flow of conversation around her, but everyone is nice enough to leave her alone so she can pay Turi proper tribute. To Nile’s delight, the thick gray fur is exactly as soft as it looks.</p><p>Nicky’s hand on her elbow eventually draws her attention away. “The others are arriving,” he murmurs.</p><p>“Right,” Nile says. “Sorry.”</p><p>Nicky offers her a small smile. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says. “As far as I know, everyone is like this when they meet Turi.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “You should have seen Joe the first time. There was a lot of cooing.”</p><p><em>The others</em> turn out to be just two more people: Sal and Vivian, who arrive at the same time but only by coincidence. There’s another round of introductions, and then they all sit down to eat.</p><p>Nile ends up with Nicky on one side and Maria on the other. Joe sits across from her, already deep in animated discussion with Henry about the nuances of Lombardy versus Piedmont wines. He’s not drinking for the sake of appearances, but that doesn’t stop him from getting into what sounds like a very serious debate about grapes.</p><p>“Joe said you don’t have any food allergies.” Maria phrases it as a statement, but there’s a question in the way she hesitates with the salad bowl.</p><p>“I don’t,” Nile confirms. </p><p>Which is good, because the food is excellent. Nile doesn’t recognize some of it, but she takes a little bit of everything and finds all of it delicious. She loves her mother’s cooking, don’t get her wrong. She misses her pot roast so much it’s a physical ache, but in the past year alone, she’s tasted more variations on food than she’d ever even realized existed. </p><p>Here, there’s one dish in particular that surprises her: grape leaves wrapped around a savory mix of lamb and spices. She makes a small sound when she bites into it, and Nicky looks over, laughing a little at whatever it is he sees on her face.</p><p>“Maria is a very good chef,” he says. “She used to own a restaurant, and it is Joe and I’s greatest regret that we never had the chance to eat there.”</p><p>“The restaurant business wasn’t for me,” Maria says, reaching towards the center of the table. “But cooking… That, I think, is in my blood.” She offers the plate of stuffed grape leaves to Nile, who happily accepts two more. </p><p>“These are amazing,” Nile says.</p><p>Maria smiles, her whole face brightening. “My mother’s recipe.” She takes one of the grape leaves for herself and shakes her head. “I enjoy my work now, but sometimes I think perhaps I shouldn’t have left the restaurant. It’s hard to find proper Greek food around here. Chinese, either,” she adds with a glance at Henry. As she returns the plate to the center of the table, she looks at Nile and asks, “And you? What is it that you do?”</p><p>“I was a Marine,” Nile says without thinking. She’d meant to say <em>am</em>, and the past tense comes as a jolt. Grief suckerpunches her in the wake of this realization, and she finds, to her horror, that her vision is blurring at the corners. She reaches for her wine glass and takes a long swallow, blinking desperately to clear away the tears.</p><p>When Nile finally lowers her glass again, she sees Nicky talking to Sal and Maria carefully focused on the hummus. She drops her gaze, pushing a half-eaten bite of beef around on her plate, and takes a steadying breath. She can feel Joe watching her, and she knows he’ll make their excuses if he believes she wants to leave. That in itself is fortifying, but also Nile isn’t about to let him think that she’s going to chicken out of a friendly conversation over a nice dinner.</p><p>Nile looks back up at Maria and says, “I’m kind of figuring things out now.” Her voice comes out steady.</p><p>Maria immediately returns her attention to Nile. “It’s good to take time for that,” she agrees. “Will you be in London long?”</p><p>“I don’t know yet.” Andy hasn’t said anything, and Joe and Nicky don’t seem to be in a hurry for Nile to leave. Nile gets the sense that they’re just waiting for the next job, though she hasn’t asked. “For a little bit, maybe.” Nile picks up a piece of pita and adds, “This is my first time really visiting London. I figure I should make the most of it.”</p><p>Maria gets a look on her face, one very similar to what Joe had worn when he’d found out Nile had never been to France before Gousssainville. “I hope Nicky and Joe have been showing you around,” she says.</p><p>Nile nods. “I try not to take up too much of their time, though.” <em>They’re very busy with their artisan chocolate-making</em>, she almost--but doesn't--say.</p><p>“Well,” Maria says, a certain light in her eye, “you really should have a good tour around while you’re here. Have you been to the British Museum?”</p><p>“Not yet,” Nile says. This makes her feel vaguely disloyal to Joe and Nicky, so she adds, “But I’ve been to the National Gallery.”</p><p>“Well,” Maria says again.</p><p>The conversation turns from there into a discussion about the things Nile absolutely must see before she leaves. Maria, it seems, has lived in the area long enough to have formed quite a few opinions, and Nile is happy to let her go on about why she should take a moment for St Dunstan in the East but mustn’t be drawn in by the London Eye.</p><p>“What’s wrong with the London Eye?” Joe asks, breaking away from his and Henry’s conversation. “It has a nice view.”</p><p>“Oh no,” Vivian says. “Don’t get her started, Joe.”</p><p>“Perhaps it is a bit touristy, but I enjoyed it.” Joe looks over at Nicky. “What did you think?”</p><p>Nicky pushes his chair back from the table. “I think this bottle is empty,” he says, and heads towards the kitchen. “I’ll open another.”</p><p>“Abandoned by my own heart,” Joe calls after him.</p><p>Things get lively then. Nile contributes here and there, but mostly she sits back, smiling to herself as everyone else gets their own word in. They’re still at it when Henry clears the table for dessert, Turi ambling in on his heels. The cat jumps up onto the table to inspect Sal’s wine glass, and Joe whistles low at her, trying to coax her over with waggled fingers. Turi favors him with a considering look before turning her back on him and depositing herself in Nile’s lap.</p><p>“Hello,” Nile says, in pleased surprise.</p><p>About thirty minutes later, Nile realizes with a start that she’s having a good time. Joining in doesn’t seem like such an effort anymore, with Maria and Joe asking her for her opinion on what feels like every possible tourist trap in London, and the strawberry tart is luscious and quickly reduced to crumbs. Turi demands her attention periodically but is magnanimous about allowing Nile to talk between bouts of petting.</p><p>It’s almost midnight when they make their farewells. </p><p>“Thank you for having me over,” Nile tells Maria and Henry again, but this time she really means it.</p><p>Maria beams at her. “It was our pleasure,” she says. She looks over at Joe. “You make sure you show her the city properly.”</p><p>“Of course,” Joe promises solemnly.</p><p>Maria looks like she wants to say more, but in the end she just shakes her head and sends them off with an admonishment to drive safely.</p>
<hr/><p>In the car, Nile rests her head against the window, full and warm and unexpectedly sated with something more than food. She has cat hair all over her blouse and jeans, and she doesn’t mind a bit. </p><p>She watches the landscape scroll past outside the window. Joe and Nicky are talking quietly in the front, which she listens to with half an ear. Joe laughs softly at something Nicky says and reaches over to rest a hand on Nicky’s knee, and they fall into a comfortable silence.</p><p>“Isn’t it hard?” Nile asks, some time after they’ve turned onto the A1.</p><p>Joe glances at her through the rearview mirror. “What was that?”</p><p>“That,” Nile says. “Maria and Henry. Being friends with people.” She looks away from the window and meets Joe’s eyes. “Isn’t it hard?”</p><p>Joe returns his attention to the road. He hums a sound, perhaps to let Nile know that he’s thinking about what she’s asked, but it’s Nicky who eventually answers.</p><p>“It is,” Nicky says. “But Joe, he is…” He says something in Italian. Then, switching back to English: “An extrovert, I think. He is happiest when he is with other people.”</p><p>“I am happiest when I am with you,” Joe corrects.</p><p>Nicky huffs out a laugh, his expression unmeasurably fond even in the dim light. “Yes, alright,” he says. “I didn’t think that needed saying.”</p><p>Joe and Nicky are both quiet for a minute. Then Joe adds, “We plan on selling the flat next year. We’ve been here--what, five years now?”</p><p>“Four,” Nicky says. “As of September.”</p><p>“Long enough.” Joe glances again at Nile through the mirror. “You figure out pretty quickly how long you can stay in one place.”</p><p>“And it depends on circumstances,” Nicky says. “We were lucky this time in London.” He twists around in his seat to face Nile. “I won’t lie: it is difficult, making friends while knowing it can’t last more than a few years. We’ll see these people maybe two or three more times, and then never again. But it is worth it, to have moments like tonight.”</p><p>Joe nods in firm agreement.</p><p>“Aren’t you afraid you’ll run into them somewhere?” Nile asks. “That someone will recognize you?”</p><p>Nicky shrugs. “There is always that chance,” he says. “It is true that the risk is higher the better you know someone--”</p><p>“As Andy likes to remind us,” Joe cuts in.</p><p>“--but the world is a very big place, and there are a lot of people in it.” Nicky smiles at Nile. “For us, we are willing to take the risk.”</p><p>Nile has a hard time wrapping her mind around this. She’d teared up when her friends at home had thrown her a going-away party, and then she’d full-on cried the night before she’d shipped out. The grief of this new life still sits heavy in her chest, blindsiding her when she least expects it: a glimpse of her brother’s face, or the ghost of her mother’s arms, summoned by something else around her and reminding her of everything she’s lost. She can’t imagine purposely putting herself in a position to lose someone five years after forming a relationship.</p><p>“There are a few rules,” Joe adds from the front.</p><p>“Learned experiences,” says Nicky.</p><p>Joe holds up a finger. “Never more than five people at once.” A second finger. “Don’t develop a routine.”</p><p>“Always perform a thorough background check.”</p><p>“Ah, yes.” Joe grins across the center console at Nicky. “That’s a mistake we’ll not make again.”</p><p>Nile’s interest is piqued. “Why?” she asks, leaning forward against her seatbelt. “What happened?”</p><p>“It’s a long story,” Nicky says.</p><p>Joe looks sidelong at Nicky, his voice a low rumble. “You did look good with your hair black.”</p><p>“We had to change our names and hide in Canada for a little while,” Nicky explains to Nile.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Nile says. “Now you <em>have</em> to tell me.”</p><p>Joe raises an eyebrow at Nicky. “What do we have but time?” he asks.</p><p>Nicky sighs, but in that way which means he’s giving in. Nile grins and settles in for the ride.</p>
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